


Trials

by katie_delaney



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coffee, Foot Massage, M/M, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-11-02 06:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20655860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katie_delaney/pseuds/katie_delaney
Summary: Harry Potter is the reluctant Minister of Magic, not long after the end of the war. He offers Draco a job in the Ministry as his PA to keep him out of Azkaban and finds himself becoming increasingly attracted to the blonde.





	1. Chapter 1

The candles were dim in the dungeons. They had been running these trials all day. Harry approximated the candles had only half an inch of wax left. Now, mentally exhausted, desperate for sunlight and if he was honest, a little bored, Harry found his eyes meeting Draco Malfoy’s. He was far too tried for what he was about to do.

Malfoy stood on the stand, looking resigned to the inevitable, leaning his forearms on the gold filigree. He looked at Harry hard, his grey eyes nearly burning through him, until the judge called out his name.

“Draco Malfoy.”

Draco sighed, stood up properly and crossed his wrists in front of his waist. Harry felt strangely proud of him, for not running, not hiding, not pleading or cursing at the jury like so many of their prisoners had today. He looked smart and respectable in his long black dress robes, his platinum hair and ivory skin shone in the candle light. He didn’t look haggard and unkempt like so many of their visitors today. Harry thought with a strange twinge in his chest that his father would be proud of him, if he’d been around to see it.

“You stand accused of being a member of the Death Eaters, a follower of Lord Voldemort, of the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore, of torture, conspiracy to over throw the government…”

Harry tuned out as the list went on. He was replaying that moment when he was hiding down low, under Dumbledore’s office, watching Draco standing with his arm outstretched, wand trembling in his hand as he attempted to perform his mission from the dark lord. He remembered Bellatrix at his side, her arm around his waist, whispering in his ear.

_“Go on Draco…” _

The memory haunted Harry’s dreams now as it always had, but it wasn’t his old friend and headmaster falling to the ground that played on Harry’s mind the most. It was the expression on Draco’s face, torn, anguish, desperate to do what had been assigned to him, to make his family proud…his completely in ability to do so.

He remembered Draco seeing him in the dungeon, turning a blind eye.

The prosecutor had finally finished reading out Draco’s alleged crimes when Harry came back to reality.

“Now, as Mr Malfoy has no one willing to represent him…”

Harry cleared his throat and stood up. It created the excited scandalised whispers Harry had expected.

“I am willing to speak on Mr Malfoy’s behalf.”

The judge was quiet for a few seconds before giving Harry a curt nod.

“Mr Malfoy was raised in a Death Eater household, was merely 16 when he was given the Dark Mark. You can’t even get married in most countries at that age. He was, no doubt, coerced, given no other option that taking the mark, and carrying out his father’s wishes. He did however, despite all this grooming, not kill Dumbledore when he was tasked with it. Dumbledore knew it, before he died, his last words were: “You’re no killer Draco.” He saved my life in the Malfoy Manor, pretending not to rescue me and allowing me to escape. Draco Malfoy has been given the Dark Mark, and yes, he was coerced and bullied as many were into aiding the Death Eaters and failed to fight against them. But he has never killed, kidnapped or tortured anyone – wizard, muggleborn or muggle. He does not deserve a life time in Azkaban.”

The court was quiet.

“The jury will confer.”

Draco gave Harry an unreadable look, not containing its usual malice, but not thankful either. Harry didn’t expect it to be.

“We have reached a verdict.”

Even with his poker face Harry could still tell Draco was holding his breath.

“Five years in Azkaban.”

Harry closed his eyes then raised his hand.

“Yes minister?”

“Sorry, humour me. Are we still holding to article 256 of the justice laws that any time in Azkaban less than 10 years can be served as Ministry service time instead with the supervision of a willing allocated mentor?”

The judge frowned and leaned to the side to confer with his colleagues.

“Yes, Minister. But who do you imagine would volunteer for such a task?”

He knew what he implied. The Malfoy name was dirt. Draco was a happy scape goat for the survivors of the war to take their grief and anguish out on. No one in their right mind would take on Draco as any sort of assistant or apprentice. It would completely ruin their reputation and business.

“I will.”

There was more scandalised whispering from audience and Draco himself looked like he was about to tell Harry to go and fuck himself. But he kept his mouth shut, behaved, and kept his formal, silent pose.

“Very well. Draco Malfoy, you are sentence to five years service in the ministry under the supervision and mentorship of The Minister of Magic, Harry James Potter.”

*

“Are you out of your mind, Potter?”

Draco did not look as well presented under the harsher lights of his office. Harry gave him a small smile.

“That’s a strange way to say thank you, Malfoy.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t believe you deserve to go to Azkaban.”

“Not even for this?” Draco pulled up his sleeve.

Harry beckoned him to come closer and looked curiously at Draco’s arm.

“I often wondered whether the mark would disappear, you know, when he was finally gone…”

He traced his fingers round the dark ink on Draco’s pale, almost hairless skin.

Draco flinched, but didn’t try to pull away.

“Does it hurt?” Harry asked.

“A little.”

Harry took out his wand and went to put it to Draco’s arm but Draco yanked it back and pulled down his sleeve.

“What? I could get rid of it for you.”

“And pretend it never happened? Do you think you can fix me Potter, erase everything that happened to me?”

“Of course I don’t.” Harry understood this at least, he’d had his fair share of people trying to ‘fix’ him.

He let go of Draco’s wrist that he’d been left holding.

“I’m just trying to give you a chance here.”

“How noble of you.”

Harry gritted his teeth and tried not to scream at him that fine, would he rather go to Azkaban?

Draco smirked a little at Harry’s lack of response. Harry’s face must have shown everything he wanted to say.

“I think the word you’re looking for, Draco, is thank you.”

“That’s two words.”

“Can you start on Monday?”

“I’ll clear my diary.”

“They’ve allocated you a flat in the Ministry Apartments. Fully furnished.” He handed him a key. “Flat 309.”

Harry appreciated the amount of effort it must have taken for him not to make a face. He knew the Ministry had seized Malfoy Manor and all their possessions. He didn’t even know where Draco was living at the moment.

“Thank you.”

“You’ll be paid on the 1st of every month.”

“Isn’t this usually HRs job?”

“I didn’t trust any of them not to start screaming Death Eater at you.”

“I have a feeling you might not be able to protect me from that for very long.”

“We’ll see. Any time you’d rather be in Azkaban, you let me know.”

“Is it that bad being your PA?”

Harry just grinned.

“See you on Monday.”

“Yes boss,” Draco drawled.

*

_1 year later_

There was a tiny lock of Draco’s hair that curled, just behind his left ear. The rest was poker straight, regulation Malfoy platinum and always in place. Harry noticed it when Draco was leaning his right ear on the telephone, propped up by his elbow, on the phone to what appeared to be a very tedious employee of the ministry.

Harry caught himself staring at the tiny imperfection on his assistant’s head, transfixed. He’d quickly looked away when Draco had sat up, finally bringing the conversation to a close.

“Everything okay?” Harry asked.

“Yes Minister. Just someone rather insistent on you coming to a gala.”

Harry groaned and Draco’s lips twitched.

“I thought you’d say that.”

“What’s it for?”

“Gillyweed preservation.”

Harry closed his eyes.

“They thought because of your use of it in the Triwizard cup you were obviously part of the movement.”

“Of course they did.” Harry sighed. “God, Draco, how many years ago was that? How does anyone still remember that?”

“Six,” Draco had said matter of factly. “Six years.”

Harry frowned.

“I’m sorry.” He knew far too well why Draco remembered all the dates that led up to the war so well.

“Will you ever stop apologising for my family’s mistakes?”

“Probably not,” Harry sighed and went back to his paper work. He found a Christmas party invitation insistently sparkling at him. He’d kept putting it to the bottom of his papers, but it seemed the time was coming where he couldn’t ignore it any longer. It had started spitting glitter at him every time he touched it.

He held it up to Draco.

“Are you coming to this?”

“I thought it was compulsory, Minister.”

“For me definitely, you could probably get out of it.”

“It almost sounds like you’re not looking forward to it.”

Harry muttered darkly under his breath, scribbled his assent on the rsvp and threw it on his out tray.

Draco smiled and looked back down at his paperwork.

Harry was still surprised that Draco had stayed. Despite his sarcasm and foreboding he had turned up to work promptly on the first Monday morning, well presented, face blank of all sneering and insults. He always called Harry ‘Minister’, had a polite telephone voice and an unshakable mask that Harry actually found more frustrating that if Draco had been acting like his usual self.

He told himself he musn’t complain. Draco actually made an amazing personal assistant, far more competent than his last one. Better than the scowling ruiner of social occasions Draco thought he might be. How he managed to be so polite, knowing how some of the people spoke about him, was beyond Harrry. As time went on he liked to think that they were beginning to accept Draco. He insisted on Draco coming everywhere with him. Always on at his side, his diary always to hand, manuscript, quills, and a supply of Harry’s favourite chocolate frogs on hand. He’d learnt quickly that a hungry Minister was not a happy Minister.

Harry jumped as the clock struck 4pm. It caught him by surprise every time. Draco gave him an amused smile.

“Would you like me to start warning you at five minutes to 4, sir?”

Harry grinned. “I’m not sure it would make much difference.”

*

The hall was sparkling, his drink was sparkling, and Draco was somehow sparkling. Harry could have sworn it. He watched him under the chandelier, light from the candles bounced and twinkled off his platinum hair, his steel grey dress robes, as he glided from person to person.

It brought Harry great relief to see, that Draco, and after a year, had been reluctantly accepted into the ministry. He stood now talking to the other PAs. Harry dreaded to think what they spoke about. Probably the nightmare of trying to organise people like him. A band played in the background. A far more reserved affair than the rock band they’d had at the Yule Ball. The memory made him cringe. At least he’d come a long way from sitting on a bench alone with his best friend.

He was trying to make his way over to the blonde, but every few steps someone caught his arm, desperate to speak to him. There had been too many galas lately, too many hours spent with his politely interested expression plastered on his face. He accepted another champagne. And another. Still trying to get across to the hall towards Draco. He excused himself for what felt like the tenth time to get to Draco. This time he ignored the voice calling him back.

“Minister, you _must_ meet…”

He thought now and again he was allowed the occasional deaf episode.

It was strange to watch Draco like this. After seeing Draco from a far at school, his chest puffed out, standing tall, ring leader. Now he stood quietly, a small smile on his face, sipping on his drink, occasionally making a sarcastic comment that made the group laugh. Harry thought it suited him better.

Harry took one last glass of champagne and walked over to Draco, putting his hand on his shoulder.

The group stood taller at the sight of him.

“Do you mind if I borrow Draco for a minute?”

There was a chorus of ‘of course not minister’, and Draco turned back towards him.

Harry guided him away from the crowd and over to the bar.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Draco’s lips twitched.

“Isn’t it a free bar, Minister?”

“Yes, of course, I meant, would you like a drink?” He flagged down the bar tender.

“Firewhiskey, please, Draco?”

“Same.” Draco looked Harry up and down with raised eyebrows.

“Minister? Did you break your only-one-drink-at-parties rule?”

“It’s Christmas!”

Draco laughed and pulled out his diary.

“So?”

“Um…” Harry couldn’t seem to remember what his excuse was meant to be for dragging Draco over here. He felt a little fuzzy.

“Can I take you out for dinner?” Harry blurted. “Or a coffee? A drink? Do you like movies? Have you ever been to a muggle cinema?”

Draco blinked.

“What, right now?”

“No, I mean, if you wanted, I meant…”

“Aren’t you sick of seeing enough of me at work?” Draco’s expression was blank. Unreadable. It infuriated Harry beyond belief.

“Minister? A word?” It was one of his deputies. Major. He clearly had not been drinking, and had a serious look, one that Draco immediately clocked.

“I’ll give you some privacy.”

His deputy nodded to him gratefully and slid into Draco’s seat.

Harry inwardly groaned as Draco smiled politely and walked back to the group of PAs.

“It’s the giants.”

Harry resisted the urge to tell him that he didn’t give a flying fuck about the giants, and that the most beautiful man he thought he’d ever seen was currently slipping through his fingers.

He pushed the professional expression back onto his face and nodded.

“What’s the problem?”

The problem seemed to be quite extensive. He was trying to concentrate, but all he caught, whilst looking at Draco over the man’s shoulder, was giants, ketamine, border control, and something about a Niffler.

Thankfully, Major already seemed to have thought of a comprehensive solution to the problem, and just wanted to run it by Harry before he went ahead. Harry gave his assent.

“Thank you, Minister.” Major nodded and rushed away.

Harry finished his whiskey and wondered if his attempts to ask Draco on a date had fallen on oblivious ears. He couldn’t decide which he’d rather. He’d embarrassed himself, he was sure, but if it led to anything, he’d take happily take the embarrassment. He didn’t know what he was thinking of. Draco hated him. Or he used to, now it was probably a mild dislike. A bitterness that he considered himself in Harry’s debt no matter what Harry tried to stay. Either way, he had no idea if he was straight or gay, had a partner, anything. Draco was completely private. And why on earth would be interested in him of all people?

He shook his head at his own delusion and hopped down off his bar stool. People seemed to be leaving. Draco came back over to him.

“Shall I call us a taxi, Minister?”

This wasn’t a big deal, they lived in the same block, they shared taxis from events all the time.

“Yes, thank you, Draco.” Harry nodded.

He needed to get home before he made even more of an idiot of himself. Draco went out to the lobby to make the phone call.

One of the Aurors put his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Some of us are going out for a few more drinks, Minister, if you fancy it?”

Harry smiled gratefully but shook his head.

“No, thank you. I think I’ve had a few too many already.”

The man grinned.

“It’s Christmas! It’s allowed!”

Harry laughed.

“I’m good, thanks. I think I’m going to go home and have a coffee.”

“Well, enjoy, Minister.”

“Thank you.”

“The taxis here, Minister.” Draco put his hand on Harry’s back.

Harry got into the taxi and closed his eyes. The world span pleasantly, and he wished he had the nerve to ask Draco out. Properly this time. Without interruption. This was his chance. No interruption in here. Draco climbed in the other side and did up his seat belt.

“Are you okay, Minister?”

“You don’t have to call me that, you know.”

“Are you okay, Potter?”

Harry grinned.

“Yes, thank you. Just a bit…spinny.”

Draco laughed.

“You look a bit spinny.”

“It’s kind of nice. Still. Probably shouldn’t make a habit of it. Ministry to run and all that.”

Time was ticking away, as the taxi sped them towards their block of flats. Time was running out. Harry said nothing. He checked his watch. It was 11pm.

“What are your plans for this weekend?” Harry asked him.

Draco blinked at the odd question. He was very private, and Harry knew that. But he felt brave.

“I thought I might go to the farmers market tomorrow.”

This surprised Harry.

“You like to cook?”

Draco shrugged.

“I like to eat nice food, and since I’m no longer in a position to cook for myself, well. What about you, do you like to cook?”

Harry laughed.

“No. The only time I have a proper meal is if Hermione or Mrs Weasley cooks it for me. Hermione came to see me the other week and saw all I had was microwave meals. An owl turned up the next day with boxes and boxes of frozen meals she’d made.”

“That’s sweet. Maybe you should have married her.”

Harry barked a laugh.

“Oh no. It’d be like marrying family.”

Draco gave him a knowing smile. They pulled up outside the flat. He supposed he’d at least managed to have a slight conversation with Draco. Draco stumble slightly as he got out the car. At least he wasn’t the only tipsy one.

They paid the driver and Harry produced his wand to the scanned on the door.

“Good evening, Minister.” The automated voice said to him and the double doors swung open.

Draco muttered something about unnatural muggle electricity. Harry laughed and walked to the lift.

“I can’t face the stairs.”

Draco followed him into the lift.

Harry hit the button for the top floor. He waited for Draco to press the button for the fifth floor. He pressed the door close button instead. Harry raised his eyebrows.

“You said you wanted to get coffee. I’m not letting you operate a coffee machine in that state.”

“What state?”

“Potter you can’t even walk in a straight line.”

“I can!” They stepped out on the tenth floor and Harry determinedly put one foot in front of the other on the white stripe that ran down the middle of the corridor.

Draco smirked at him.

“You should run away and join the circus.”

“Trapeze artist?” Harry suggested.

“Clown?” Draco teased.

“Rude. Do you know who I am?”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Harry Potter. Saviour of the wizarding world. Can’t cook. Nothing without his PA.”

Harry conceded, currently trying and failing to put the key in the lock to his door. He threw the key to Draco. Draco caught it with one hand and opened it easily.

“So, this is where the Ministers of Magic have all lived.”

“Creeps me the fuck out.” Harry said.

“Well, I’m sure they cleaned the place and changed the sheets before you moved in. Where’s your coffee machine?”

Harry gestured to the red machine in the corner of the kitchen then went and lay down on his back on the sofa. The room was open plan, with just the bathroom and bedroom being separate. He watched as Draco took some mugs down from the cupboard and turned on the coffee maker.

“It doesn’t like me.”

Draco gave him such a familiar condescending look that Harry grinned. That was the Draco he remembered. Not the stone-faced polite assistant he shared an office with now.

“What do you mean?” Draco asked.

“It spits at me.”

“Is it muggle?”

Harry shook his head.

“No. I’d have preferred a muggle one.”

Draco walked over to the coffee maker and ran a hand down its side. Harry was sure it purred.

He took the top off, peered inside, then looked back at Harry.

“Potter, when did you last clean this?”

Harry shrugged.

Draco shook his head at him and took out his wand, muttering under his breath. The coffee maker buzzed happily as Draco cleaned it, spelling all the dust and dirt into the bin.

“How do you even know how to clean, didn’t you have house elves for that?”

“Because I’m not a tramp, Potter, and my mother instilled certain standards of cleanliness into me.”

Harry just smiled.

“Coffee beans?” Draco asked.

Harry pointed to the cupboard.

Draco took out the beans and a handful spilt out onto the work surface where Harry had ripped the bag opening it the first time. Draco turned round to give Harry another condescending look.

“Honestly, Potter. I think you need a house elf.”

“I feel bad for them.”

“What about a wife?”

“Husband. Would be better for me I think.”

He held his breath as to what Draco’s response would be.

“Nothing wrong with a pretend wife. I was meant to have one of those. She was a lovely girl, from France.”

Draco turned on the coffee maker and smiled as it happily buzzed and distributed coffee into the two mugs.

“Yeah? What happened to her?”

“Surprisingly, she lost interest. Not that I really need one anymore anyway. They’re a status, children and carrying on the line sort of thing.”

“At least you don’t have to do that anymore.”

“I don’t know. It didn’t sound so bad. Sugar?”

“One please.”

Draco came and sat on the arm chair next to the sofa, handing Harry his coffee.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Harry asked

“Why, interested are you?”

“Of course I’m interested in you!” Harry deliberately side stepped the question and laughed, blowing on his coffee.

“No, no boyfriend,” Draco said. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I have one?” Harry asked.

“I know you don’t have one, Potter, I know what you do every second of your day. I’d know if you were seeing anyone.”

Harry didn’t bother to try and deny it. He was fairly sure Draco knew everything from his sleeping to his bathroom habits. There’s no way he’d be able to sneak a boyfriend past him.

He lay his head back on the arm of the sofa, looking at Draco upside down, wondering quite when he’d started to find the man so attractive.

The smell of coffee filled his nostrils as he kept it balanced on his chest. It brought him round a little from his tipsy stupor. He looked away quickly and took a swig of the coffee.

“That’s really good,” he said.

The coffee machine purred at the compliment.

Draco’s mouth twitched.

“You just need to treat her better.”

Harry had a horrid flashback to Ginny leaving. It wasn’t a horrid breakup, as such. Just a painful memory. She’d been too kind. Too understanding. It made him feel even worse.

“I’ll work on it.”

Draco looked round the open plan penthouse flat curiously.

“I know,” Harry said. “It’s too big for me really. I know it’s nice, but I don’t see why it can’t be given to one of the employees with a family, who might actually use the three bedrooms, and I can have a single bedroom flat.”

Draco chuckled.

“Saint Potter. You never change. The Ministry wouldn’t hear of it, I suppose?”

“No.” Harry sighed.

“Can’t you just stamp your Minister of Magic boots and insist?”

Harry laughed and looked at his books that he’d neglected to kick of yet, that were currently creating a damp patch on the upholstery that he was sure he’d get a bollocking for later.

“Bloody uncomfortable things,” Harry said.

Draco gave him a smile, put his mug on the side and got up. Harry was terrified for a second that Draco was going to leave, but instead he lifted up Harry’s feet, sat down on the sofa, and placed them back in his lap.

Harry looked at him, perplexed.

“I give great foot rubs.”

This didn’t help ease Harry’s confusion.

Draco pulled off Harry’s boots. Harry felt oddly exposed, and also paranoid about when he last washed his socks.

Draco didn’t comment, just discarded them onto the floor and took out his wand. He conjured a bubble of water and soaked Harry’s feet, inexplicably keeping both their legs and the sofa perfectly dry.

Harry didn’t have time to wonder about the spell for long. His head fell back and he signed at the warmth that spread up his legs. Draco spread a light soap over his feet and Harry tried not to yelp.

“Ticklish?”

“Uhuh,” Harry managed.

Draco’s hands on his skin was too much, even on his feet of all places.

Harry put his coffee down on the side next to Draco’s empty mug before he sent it flying across the room.

Draco accio-ed a towel from the bathroom, one of the fluffy ones that had been there when Harry had moved in. Harry couldn’t help the slight moan that escaped his lips.

He gasped as Draco spread a cold lotion on the soles of his feet, rubbing it in slow circles. Harry’s cock was beginning to twitch. He stared at the ceiling and thought of Umbridge.

“How do you like it? Harder?”

Harry’s gaze snapped to Draco’s. Draco was looking at him blankly and pushed his thumb into the curve of Harry’s foot when he didn’t respond. Harry cried out then bit his tongue at the delighted look on Draco’s face.

“Sensitive, aren’t we Potter?”

Harry was speechless. He had no idea what was going on. Draco continued to rub his feet with his deadpan expression. He cleaned and flied his toe nails meticulously, pretending that he didn’t noticed at all that Harry jumped half a foot in the air whenever he touched the soles of his feet.

“There.” Draco smiled at him. “Feel better?”

Draco spelled him across a clean pair of socks and slid them over his feet. Harry shuddered at the soft cotton.

“Your coffees going cold.”

Harry nodded and picked it up off the table and took a few hurried gulps. He choked a little and swung his legs round to sit up on the sofa. Draco slapped him on the back.

“Careful,” Draco said, “can’t have them saying I killed the Minister of Magic. I’m on eggshells as it is.”

Harry laughed. Draco’s hand was still on his back.

“Are you okay?”

Harry nodded, trying to get his breath back and regain some composure. He took another sip of coffee.

Draco slid his hand up into Harry’s hair.

Harry tried to keep his expression neutral. He had no idea what Draco’s intentions were. Hell, he had no idea what his own intentions were.

“I was always jealous of your hair in school.”

“My hair? My hair was a mess in school.”

“Still is.” Draco grinned at him. “It’s so thick though.”

He grabbed a handful and Harry’s eyes went wide.

“Sorry.” He took his hand away.

Harry desperately tried to find the words to tell him no, it was fine, to please put his hand back. But it was too late. The connection between Harry’s brain and speech seemed to be out of action. God knows how he ever got a girlfriend. A stunning girlfriend at that. He supposed he hadn’t had to do a great deal of work. She had more or less jumped into his arms.

He put his hand out to Draco’s, his heart thudding in his ears at doing something so bold.

A rational voice was trying to tell Harry that he had to see Draco on Monday. And great many other days after that. If this all went horribly wrong, if he was reading this wrong, it would be a disaster. Draco gave him a small smile and laced his fingers through Harry’s, dragging his thumb up the palm of his hand. Harry tried to tell his cock this was not a sign to stand to attention.

Draco leant towards him, Harry chest was tight.

Harry jumped out of his skin at the thudding on the door, then closed his eyes in despair as he heard Major’s voice on the side of it.

“Minister? Minister!”

“Coming,” Harry shouted.

He gave Draco an apologetic look and went to the door.

“Minister!”

Major was ashen faced and out of breath. He wasn’t usual one to overly panic. He was a rational man.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you at this hour, Minister.”

Harry had absolutely no idea what time it was.

“It’s the giants.”

Harry nodded and opened the door.

“Draco.” Major nodded to him, apparently not at all surprised to see him there.

It was one of the things he liked about Major. He wasn’t into gossiping, grudges and internal politics. He was always polite to Draco.

“Major.” Draco nodded back, his black polite work expression back in place.

“Still working at this time you?” Major said. “I was worried I’d wake you. I clearly should have known better.”

Harry laughed nervously.

“They’re threatening to break the borders because we’re tightening security. They say no one is taking them seriously and unless you speak to them personally, they’re going to break the 50-year treaty and smash the border to pieces.”

Harry nodded.

“Of course they are. Okay.” He trusted Major’s opinion. “Yeah. I’ll go.”

“Thank you, Minister.” Major relaxed, and some of the colour came back into his face.

As Harry sat down and laced his boots back up Draco disappeared into his bedroom. He wondered what on earth he was doing until he came back with a silver shirt and set of plain black robes. More subtle that the dress robes he’d worn to the party.

“You’ve got coffee down your shirt, Minister,” He explained.

“Oh, thank you.”

Harry turned and changed quickly.

“Do you need me to accompany you, Minister?” Draco asked.

“Oh no, Draco, go and get some rest.”

He didn’t think he’d be able to think clearly for a second if Draco was still around.

“Thank you, Minister. I hope they don’t keep you too long.”

“Thank you, Draco, I hope so too.”

Draco nodded to them both as he left.

“God, he’s a good catch isn’t he?”

“I’m sorry?” Harry tried not to panic.

“Your PA. He’s excellent. Mines hopeless. She can’t even take phone messages properly.”

“Oh. Yes. A bit unconventional. Rescued him from a Death Eater trial.”

“Maybe I need to start looking in more unconventional places. Right. Shall we go?” 

“Yeah.”

Harry apparates. The wind and sideways rain hits him in the face and nearly sends him flying. Major grabs his arm. He thinks he’s sober again now.

“Sorry, should have warned you about the weather.”

Major creates a weather repellent bubble around them both and Harry shakes himself dry.

“Where are we?”

“Scotland,” Major says, with a particularly disdainful voice.

Harry’s always quite liked Scotland, but then it’s never rained sideways in his face before.

“Brief?”

“They’re pissed because the Ministry are restricting what they can take back and forth over the border.”

“Drugs?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you say something about ketamine?”

“It’s similar to the muggle drug, Ketamine, yes. The only difference is it makes your hair sparkle.”

“It makes your hair sparkle?” Harry repeated.

“Yes. The younger wizards are going mad for it. They’ve been smuggling it into the nightclubs.”

“Any deaths?”

“No. It seems fairly harmless.”

“Major?” Harry asked after a pause.

“Yes?”

“How does a giant smuggle anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well surely, they’re too big to sneak across the border?”

“Yeah, their orifices are bigger too.”

Harry wished he’d never asked.

It was late when Harry got home. The sun was coming up over the high rises as he looked out from the windows of his flat. Despite Major’s weather protection charms he had still somehow got soaking wet. He was drenched and shivering. He ran himself a steaming hot bath and threw his wet clothes into the basket. He shuffled round in his dressing gown and cleared up the coffee cups, looking for a while at the space where Draco had been sitting on his sofa. He’d missed his chance. He was sure.

The bath started singing to him to tell him it was full. He cursed to the moon and back which ever minister had had that installed. The housekeeping said it was old magic, and no one could remove it. None of the past ministers were owning up to having done it, and that was just the ones that were alive.

He poured himself a glass of water and walked into the bathroom. It ceased singing. It seemed disappointed. Harry had cut it off mid Car Wash chorus.

He dropped his dressing gown on the floor and slid under the water. He sighed out loud, wondering if life ever was going to stop throwing ridiculous obstacles in his way. Mind you, he supposed once he used to view Draco Malfoy as a ridiculous obstacle. It took him a good ten minutes to defrost in the almost scalding hot water. He toyed with the idea of going downstairs and knocking on Draco’s door. He knew which one it was, but Draco was surely asleep, and wouldn’t appreciate being woken up at the crack of dawn by his delusional boss.

He sipped on his water. Just for a moment he had glimpsed past Draco’s work mask. But they’d both been tipsy, it was Christmas, and Harry doubted it’d happen again. The hangover was looming, and a grey cloud was descending over Harry’s world.

He soaked himself a while longer. Fantasising about what would happen if Draco were to come and knock, let himself in at that very moment. Come in and find him naked in the bath. Draco would call out to him, then find him in the bathroom. He’d smile, an unguarded, genuine smile, and his clothes would fall to the floor.

He’d delicately step into the water, in that delicate way that he did everything, barely making a splash, and would lie down on top of Harry. He’d slide on top of him, kiss him, their hot naked bodies together.

Harry gasped and came in his hand.

He groaned, disgusted with himself and the white sticky liquid now floating in the bathwater.

He pulled the plug and dragged himself out of the bath, wrapped his dressing gown back round himself, shuffled to the bedroom and passed out on the bed.

*


	2. Chapter 2

Harry woke up at 2pm with a pounding head. He spent the next three hours cursing himself. Had he really made a pass at his assistant? Who happened to be his childhood nemesis? A man. When no one other that Ginny, Hermione and Ron knew about his preferences. He groaned. How could he have been so stupid?

Draco could blackmail him for this if he wanted to.

Another knock at the door. Harry groaned. He was sat on the sofa in his pyjamas, watching a mindless action movie and thinking about ordering a pizza. More giants? He spelled the door unlocked.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Potter. I brought you some vegetables.”

Harry nearly fell off the sofa at the sound of Draco’s drawl. He jumped up and tried to fix his hair, before realising Draco was already in the kitchen and watching his flustered attempts with amusement.

“Hi,” Harry managed.

He glanced down at his pyjamas, wondering quite how many stains they had down them. Judging by the twitching of Draco’s lips he imagined there were several. In his panic Harry smelt the dinner Draco had brought with him before he saw the plates levitating behind his head. Stew. It smelt better than Mrs Weasley’s, and that was saying something.

“Hungry?” Draco asked.

“Starving.”

Draco looked around for a table.

“Oh right, yeah.” Harry flicked his wand at the collapsed table under the sofa and assembled it in the space he’d cleared for doing his exercises in the morning.

Draco grabbed a cloth from the kitchen and the coffee machine purred at him. Harry rolled his eyes. Draco was still managing to look smarter than Harry did in his ministry robes in basic dark green chinos and a black polo shirt. If he was in any way hungover, he was hiding it well.

Draco threw Harry the cloth over. Harry caught it without comment and ran it across the dusty table and chairs. Draco floated the plates over and hunted through the cupboard for some knives, forks and glasses.

“Make yourself at home why don’t you.”

Draco shot him a grin that made him weak at the knees. They sat down. Harry winced at the bottle of pale liquid that was still waiting patiently by the door until Draco waved it over.

“It’s only cordial,” Draco said at the look on Harry’s face. “The sugar will do you good.”

“How was the Farmer’s Market?” Harry finally thought of something sensible to ask him.

“Damp,” Draco replied.

Only then Harry noticed the rain thrashing at the window.

“But I got some nice things.”

Harry picked up his knife and fork and looked down at his plate.

“What are we having?”

“Roast lamb, I was going to get you the venison but I thought you might find it a bit distasteful.”

It took Harry a moment to catch his meaning, then he laughed, wondering how Draco knew what his Patronus was.

“Thanks.” He took a mouthful. “This is delicious.”

Draco nodded like surely this was obvious.

“How were the giants?” Draco asked him.

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Grumpy, damp, and rather cheeky. One of them tried to sell me some Glitzamine as I was leaving.”

Draco laughed.

“Did you take it?”

“No!”

“Damn, don’t you get any perks being the Minister of Magic?”

Harry swallowed and felt bold.

“My assistants pretty hot.”

Draco smirked at him across the table.

“Well, I guess that’s something.”

Harry didn’t dare push further and continued to wolf down the delicious food.

“Did you know your cheeks burn when you flirt?” Draco had that deadpan expression on his face.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever tried to before,” Harry said. “Ginny did the work for both of us.” He took a sip of the cordial. “That’s delicious, what is it?”

“Elderflower. Don’t tell me you’ve never had Elderflower before, Potter?”

Harry shrugged.

“I might have to start bringing you food packages more often.”

“They’d be much appreciated.”

Harry demolished the rest of the stew and dumplings in minutes. Hangovers always made him ravenous, and he hadn’t dared to try and have any breakfast when he first woke up in case he brought it all back up again.

“That was wonderful, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Harry drank his cordial slowly as he waited for Draco to finish eating. Draco was methodical, with table manners Harry could only dream of, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a napkin he’d found from god knows where in Harry’s kitchen.

As Draco got close to finishing his meal Harry got nervous. He hadn’t forgotten the mortification of that afternoon. Of what Draco now knew. He didn’t know whether Draco was going to pretend it never happened. But if he was going to do that, what on earth was he doing there? Did he want to be friends?

Men were apparently just as confusing as he’d always found women.

Harry knew from sharing an office with Draco for a year that he was silent almost all of the time. That when he made a noise it was because he wanted to be heard. So, when Draco pushed his chair back with a curdling shriek against the wooden floor Harry jerked his head up.

Draco’s mouth twitched into an almost smile but stopped just shy of it. He walked around the table and waved the dirty plates over to the sink. He stopped in front of Harry’s chair and put his hands on his hips.

“Saint fucking Potter,” he sighed wistfully. He trailed off, then moved forward, straddling Harry’s lap in the chair.

Harry froze. He couldn’t breathe. He realised now it was very obvious where this was headed. But he really wasn’t sure whether Draco wanted to snog him or punch him in the face. He still wasn’t certain.

He shuddered underneath him.

“Yeah, you like that? You want me don’t you?” Draco rocked his hips.

Harry let out a choked sound.

“Was that why you got me out of Askaban, so I could be your office easy lay?”

Harry spluttered.

“Of course not!”

Draco smirked.

“No? You not always fancied me? “

Harry had blocked the idea from his mind.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Draco rolled his eyes. “I’ve fancied you since I started getting erections, Saint Potter,” Draco whispered in his ear.

Harrys eyes widen.

“But always too good for me, weren’t you?”

Draco was rocking back and forth in his lap, the sweetest pressure on his cock, the sweetest smell of Draco up close. Harry didn’t reply. He didn’t think Draco really wanted him to.

Draco raked a hand through Harry’s hair and tossed Harry’s glasses onto the table. He looked at Harry thoughtfully. Harry kept still, scared if he said the wrong or moved in the wrong way that Draco would run.

Draco yanked Harry’s head to the side and ran his teeth down Harry’s neck. Harry thought he might ruin in his pants.

“God, Malfoy.” Harry muttered. He grabbed Draco’s arse and pulled Draco him down hard against his waist.

Draco moaned in his ear. Long and anguished. The most wonderful thing Harry had ever heard. Draco grabbed Harry’s ear lobe between his ear and pulled. Harry jumped. Every touch from Draco was making him shake, making his cock throb. He’d been wanting this for too long. Sat fantasising at his desk about it for far too many hours. Harry wriggled under Draco’s rocking, desperate to move but far too terrified to do so. Draco’s arse felt hard in his hands. 

“I’ve never fucked a guy before.” Harry blurted.

“Ever fucked anyone that wasn’t Ginny Weasley before?”

Harry flushed and shook his head.

“Never even gone to a club? Fucked in the dark?”

Harry shook his head again.

“I haven’t since the end of the war. I don’t like wearing masks to those places, and Malfoy’s aren’t exactly welcome.”

“But you did before?”

“Potter.” Draco laughed. “I’ve fucked half of Slytherin house and half the wizard population of London.”

“Yeah?” Harry’s mind flooded with images of Draco getting fucked against every possible surface in Hogwarts. Of every seedy club in London. Not that he’d know what one looked like. But he could imagine.

“Oh, that’s the wonderful thing about getting fucked in the dark, Potter. It could be anyone,” Draco whispered in his ear.

Harry shivered underneath him.

“Maybe we should go some time,” Draco purred in his ear. “You wanted to take me out right? We could go to some muggle club, and you could spend the entire night grinding that righteous cock up against my arse.”

“I mean,” Harry said as Draco rested his forehead against his. “I was thinking more dinner…somewhere nice?”

Draco’s lips were inches from his, his grey eyes sparkling bright.

“Gonna kiss me, Potter? Or have you not got the bottle?”

Harry knew Draco was baiting him, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to work. Their childhood rivalry stepped in, marching past Harry’s shyness and kissing Draco square on the mouth. Draco grinned.

He kissed him back, hard, and Harry realised quite how out of his depth he was. He’d never felt this before, the lurching of his stomach, the butterflies, the goosepimples on his arms, the hair standing up on the back of his neck. The world was falling away below him and there was nothing he could do about it.

Draco slowly coaxed open Harry’s lips. Harry let him, let him ravage his mouth and bite his lip between his teeth, let him grind his hips down against his. He’d never been this hard. Ever. He was clinging desperately to Draco’s arse, the only thing he really had to hold onto, but all it did was push Draco’s crotch into his own, sending the sensations out of control. Draco rocked his hips and Harry had to stop him.

“Malfoy. You keep doing that I’m going to come in my pants.”

Draco laughed.

“Yeah? Come on then.”

“Dra—”

Draco cut him off with his mouth, grabbed Harry’s wrists and pulled them behind the chair, touched his wand on the table and whispered something under his breath. Rope lashed round Harry’s wrists.

“Fuck.” Harry hips spasmed and Draco grinned.

“Oh yes. I always wondered if my Gryffindor boyfriend would like being tied up.”

Draco stepped back off him and Harry heaved in a breath, trying to get his bearings. Draco took his shirt off and threw it onto the floor. Harry stared. His bearings were well and truly lost. Draco’s skin was so pale it was almost translucent, his waist slight, with a thin dusting of platinum curls on his chest, in between his legs. The dark mark glared up at Harry from Draco’s right forearm, and Draco didn’t seem to care if Harry saw it.

Draco popped open the button of his chinos and Harry gulped. He kicked them off and walked back to Harry with a smug grin, he knew how good he looked.

“Are you a Veela?” Harry blurted, as it occurred to him. He used to think about it before, at school, when they learnt about them. Their pale seductive skin, their ability to make men fall at their feet. Maybe he had fancied Draco at school.

Draco laughed.

“No, Potter, you’re just infatuated with me. Very sorry to break the news.”

Harry was glad Draco and tied him up, because now he didn’t have to worry about what he was meant to be doing with his hands. He knew it was only simple magic, that really, if he wanted to, he could break his wrists free. He left them where they were.

Draco picked his wand up again and smiled. Harry hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a long time. It made his cock throb even more.

“Don’t look so scared, I told you, I can’t have murdering the Minister of Magic on my ledger when I’ve just skirted round a trip to Azkaban.”

Draco waved his wand and Harry’s clothes were gone apart from his boxers. He put his wand back on the table. He sat astride Harry’s lap and Harry groaned at Draco’s hard cock against his own. He rocked against Draco instinctively and moaned at the sensation.

Draco smiled to himself as he traces his fingers across Harry’s chest.

“A hundred wet teenage dreams,“ Draco mused and brushed his fingers through the dark hair on Harry’s chest. “Let’s see how true to life they were.”’

He put his hand in between them and ran the palm of his hand down Harry’s hard cock.

“Fuck!”

Harry had never felt so intimidated. He had no idea how Draco was doing it, when he was the one telling Harry his schoolboy crush secrets.

“You know…” Draco said, continuing to palm Harry’s cock through his boxers, “I don’t think I was far off.”

Draco took his hand away and kissed Harry again, hard and deep. Harry raised his hips to meet every one of Draco’s rocks, desperate for more contact, for anything he could get. Draco ran his hand through Harry’s hair.

“You’re delicious,” Draco told him.

“You’re beautiful,” Harry countered.

“You smell surprisingly good.”

Harry nearly choked with laughter.

“What do you mean, surprisingly?”

“Well you look like a giant dragged you through hell and back,” he chuckled.

“Scotland and back,” Harry muttered.

Draco smirked.

“Ever had your cock sucked, Potter?”

“Yes!” Harry said defensively.

Draco laughed and slid down to kneel into the gap in between Harry’s legs.

He pulled down Harry’s boxers slowly, keeping his eyes locked with Harry’s.

He looked up at Harry, his grey eyes full of mischief as he took Harry’s cock in his hand.

Harry groaned. It had been so long since anyone had touched him. Draco smiled and tilted his head, running Harry’s cock across his cheek and flicking his tongue out over the head. Harry was staring at his stunning ex-arch nemesis playing with his cock, a smug smile on his face. The cat that got the cream. Draco traced his fingertips over Harry’s balls and Harry jerked his hips. Draco raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“Sensitive there?”

Harry couldn’t talk. That part of his brain seemed to have stopped working.

Draco swooped down with his mouth, tonguing his balls.

“Fuck!” Harry’s head dropped back.

Draco was relentless, sucking and tonguing his balls until Harry was a blathering mess. His hips jerked back and forth and he pulled on his wrists, desperate for the soft wet incredible heat that was Draco’s mouth on his dick.

“Drac—“ he groaned.

Draco look up and grinned at him.

“You look good flushed,” Draco told him, before taking his cock in his mouth and reducing all of Harry’s previous sexual experiences to the awkward fumbles that they really had been.

“Oh god,” he moaned. “Draco that feels so good.”

Draco cupped his hand round Harry’s balls and Harry squealed.

“Fuck!”

Draco slid his lips down Harry’s cock, easily taking it to the back of his throat and bobbing his head like nothing Harry’s had ever known.

“Draco, fuck, stop I’m gonna…”

Draco reached his hand out to tap his wand on the table. Harry felt an odd tingling sensation at the bottom of his cock.

He blinked.

“What the hell have you done?”

Draco didn’t answer, just carried on bobbing his head. Harry groaned, resigning himself to a humiliating early finish, letting himself buck into Draco’s mouth, he clenched his fists, ready to come down Draco throat but he just…couldn’t. He opened his eyes and looked down at Draco.

Draco let Harry’s cock drop from his mouth a laughed at the look on Harry’s face.

“Not yet sweetheart.”

He took Harry’s cock back in his mouth, sucked and bobbed his head till Harry was flying towards the edge again, 100mph, he groaned as he hit it again, that invisible wall. He twisted and moaned, desperate, but completely unable. Draco pulled back and let him catch his breath before doing it again, and again, till Harry was nearly screaming the place down in frustration.

Every time he took him higher, quicker and Harry was sure it was getting more intense. When Harry was nearing breaking point Draco stopped and sat back aside Harry’s lap. He leant forward and whispered in Harry’s ear.

“Finger me.”

Harry nearly fell off the seat. The bounds on his wrists came undone.

He tried to compose himself and not hopelessly rut against Draco’s stomach. Draco touched his wand again, slippery gel covered Harry’s fingers. He took a deep breath and moved his fingers inbetween Draco legs. His hand was shaking as he pushed a finger inside Draco’s arse. It was hot, tight and inexplicably soft. He had sort of done this before at least. He moved his finger back on forth, trying not to pass out at the thought of what was going to happen next.

Draco was pumping his own cock now, his eyes shut and his mouth open as he moved back and forth against Harry’s hand.

“More.”

Harry gulped and added another finger, groaning at how Draco’s arse tensed around the intrusion then relaxed.

Draco moaned in his ear and rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, making sure Harry caught every sigh and gasp coming out of his mouth.

“Faster.”

Harry tried to do as he was told, struggling in the awkward position they were in.

“Ah yeah, there, there, that’s it…” Draco gasped and pushed his arse back hard against Harry’s hand. Harry groaned, his cock throbbing painfully.

“Yeah, yeah, another one.”

Harry did as he was told, feeling himself thrown hard against the invisible wall again at the feel of Draco’s arse stretching around his fingers.

“Ah yeah, yeah,” he muttered in Harry’s ears. “That’s good. Really good, Potter.”

He pushed himself back hard against Harry’s hand and moaned loud in his ear.

Harry jumped at Draco’s hand back on his dick.

“Yes, yes.” Draco’s hand was slick, smearing the gel over Harry’s cock.

Harry groaned at the delicious sensation, slick and smooth.

“Take your fingers out.”

Harry complied with a shaking hand, knowing exactly what Draco was going to do next.

They both cried out loud as Draco guided Harry’s cock inside him.

“Oh god yes,” Draco said, wiggling his hips until the entire of Harry’s length was buried inside him. Harry put his hands on the small of Draco’s back. Draco took a handful of Harry’s hair and yanked his head back, kissing him hard as he put his other hand on the back of the chair and started to ride him.

“Oh…” Harry’s mouth was hanging open as Draco moved, the tight heat sliding up and down his dick leaving him breathless. Draco kissed him, pulling on his lips with his teeth, running his teeth down his neck. Harry began to move with Draco, his hand on Draco’s back guiding them together.

“Yeah, Potter, yeah, pull me down hard on your cock.”

Harry did as he was told and Draco squealed, so Harry did it to his heart’s content, filling the apartment with Draco’s squeals and cries as he shook above him. He lost count of the amount of times he would have come by now, if it wasn’t for that wretched/amazing spell of Draco’s.

“Potter.” Draco paused and Harry gasped back his breath.

“Yeah?” Harry looked up at him.

Draco’s cheeks were flushed and he a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Fuck me over the table.”

Harry didn’t know if he could stand, let alone live up to Draco’s task, but he nodded anyway, determined to try. He stood up, lifting Draco with him.

Draco gasped as he shifted on Harry’s cock.

“Oh, wait stop.”

Harry stopped.

“Fuck me like this.”

Harry paused, then moved his hands down to Draco’s arse, easily lifting him up and and letting him drop back down on his cock.

“Yes! Oh god, Potter, yes, do it again.”

Harry leant back against the table and Draco wrapped his arms round his neck, moaning in his ear as Harry guided him up and down.

“Okay. Table.” Draco said, lifting himself off Harry’s dick and putting his feet back on the floor.

“You always this demanding?”

Draco just grinned and Harry spun him around, pushing him down over the table. He had to take the opportunity to admire Draco’s arse. He spread Draco’s checks with his thumbs and pushed his fingers back inside the already stretched muscle, groaning at the sight of how it stretched, at his fingers disappearing him Draco’s arse.

Draco squealed, not expecting it.

“Potter! What are you doing?”

Harry fucked him with his two fingers hard and Draco groaned.

“You trying to make me beg or something?”

“No. I just wanted to see.” Harry left it at that, failing to put into words what he wanted.

“Pervert. There! Oh Potter there. Get your dick and put it right there.”

Harry pushed his fingers hard at the place he thought Draco meant.

“Ah! Potter please. Fuck me.”

Harry relented, pulling his fingers back and slowly pushing himself back inside Draco. Draco groaned, low and long.

Harry stared at the sight of his cock disappearing inside Draco’s arse. He fucked him slowly, trying to keep the invisible wall at bay. His nerves shattered every time he hit it.

He leant down and kissed Draco’s neck, letting his body weight drop onto Draco, pinning him down on the table.

“Potter,” Draco whimpered. “Potter yes. Please. Fuck me hard. I don’t want to be able to sit down for a week. Please. I need.”

Harry bit down on Draco’s neck and picked up his pace, flying high on the pleasure, on the sound of Draco crying out beneath him with his every thrust. He was getting used to the wall now, the times between hitting in were getting shorter, he just gasped and carried on, pounding Draco into the table, regardless of how blue it was making his balls. It was so good. Too good. Nothing in the world had every felt like this soaring euphoria.

“Okay, okay you ready?” Draco panted underneath him.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Draco released the spell. Harry was not ready.

He cried out loud as the wall disappeared and he started to come, harder and longer than he ever had, digging his nail into Draco’s hips, fucking him hard and erratic as he came in long shudders inside Draco’s arse. He grabbed Draco’s cock, pulling him over with him. Draco shook and shuddered, groaning loud as he came in Harry’s hand, with Harry still pounding out the last of his intensified orgasm on his arse.

Eventually they stilled and Harry pulled back, stumbled and fell back onto his back on the floor.

Draco turned and looked down at Harry in amusement.

“Did I give you jelly legs?”

“Apparently.”

Draco cleaned himself up with a flick of his wand and let himself fall down on top of Harry on the floor.

They lay panting together for a few minutes.

“Fucking hell,” Harry said eventually.

Draco grinned.

“Yes.”

“That was just.” Harry stared at the ceiling and blinked. “Fuck.”

“You like the spell?”

“It’s torture.”

“But you never came so hard?”

“No,” Harry admitted.

Draco grinned.

“Me neither. You’ve got a wonderful dick.”

Harry laughed.

“Thanks. Feel free to come and use it anytime you like.”

“I really, really will.”

Harry felt his stomach somersault.

“Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow night?”

Draco looked up at him from where he was resting his head on Harry’s chest.

“Can I pick the restaurant?”

“Of course.”

“Will you take me home after and fuck me into next week?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.”

Harry laughed.

“Okay?”

Draco smirked at him.

“How long does it usually take you to get hard again?” Draco asked him.

Harry blinked.

“What do you mean?”

Draco laughed.

“I mean, idiot, it usually takes me about half an hour the first time. So, do you want to put a movie on or something?”

Harry spluttered.

“I don’t usually…”

“You will with me. Trust me.” Draco said, pushing himself up on the floor and sitting butt naked on Harry’s sofa. He beckoned to him. “Pick a movie.”


End file.
